Another Time
by SaberTail FairyTooth
Summary: Sometimes, the one you would take a bullet for is the one behind the trigger. But, for these teens-kids, really-you just lead them to their deaths. Somewhat inspired by the Boy in the Striped Pajamas. But, do you really want it to end like TBINSP? Set during the Holocaust. Not meant to offend. Flames accepted. I do not own Fairy Tail.
1. Wheels A'turning

Hello! This fan fiction will involve WWI, Fairy Tail style. I don't mean anything I might write, I have nothing against any race, nor religion at all. Please do not get offended. By the way, flames are accepted. Criticism helps make everything better :)

* * *

_**"Sometimes, the one you would take a bullet for is behind the trigger." **_ _**And other times, you just lead them to their death.**_

* * *

Erza Scarlet, 3rd Person

She had seen _it_. Seen _it_ with her good eye, clear as day, though all she had to see by was the small fire that flickered, time and time again, struggling to stay alive. Just like her fellow prisoners. She had heard _it, _too. The low baritone of _it's_ voice echoing off the empty room while discussing matters she didn't understand. The voice was void of emotion, just like her feelings toward _it. It _was not worth her time to abhor. _It_ wasn't worth feelings at all. The _'thing' _had **blue** hair, though she couldn't comment, she had a crimson mane herself. That _thing _also had crimson. Crimson hands, soiled by the priceless deaths of millions. Deaths that had been caused by_ it. _The _thing_ also had a crimson tattoo, ornamenting _it's_ face from _it's_ forehead (Though she couldn't imagine what that forehead contained. Knowledge and a brain were certainly not in that forehead. Nor was the concept of ethics, apparently.) to the apple of _it's_ cheek. The tattoo was not the swastika of allegiance she had become familiar with, it was very elaborate, a swirl of designs, she couldn't begin to describe it, she didn't know where to start. How it curved, ever so slightly, with his cheek? Or maybe the simple, yet startling, line that cut through his cheek like the wooden katanas she used to play with, a major part of her short, but happy childhood. But, his eyes startled her. They were so _serious. _Even more so than Grey-a part of her surrogate family's- cold eyes. They were a hunter's trap for a deer. Enticing, like a snake luring a hummingbird in. And CHOMP! The bird was gone, like it never existed. That would be her someday. Sooner or later. She had heard rumors, of the _Konzentration felder_'s way of making people disappear. Like the humming bird. Like she never existed.

Though he wasn't the man fueling the war, he was certainly a big part of it. Part of the organization that would someday kill her, just like it did to her biological family. They died by _'biological means'. _She still remembered the terror in her mother's eyes as recognition struck. She remembered her father, screaming at her to run. That was all she remembered of them. Because she had only come in contact with it for a split second before running away with desperation, the gases had gave her short term memory loss. But it was better than what her parents got out of it.

_FERNANDES... Traitor._

* * *

Jellal Fernandes, 3rd Person

Erza thought she was hidden from view, in the shadows, where darkness lurked-_where he should be-_though the minuscule flame valiantly fought against it. Her scarlet hair was a dead giveaway, along with the sharp breaths she drew, _Most likely to calm herself down,_ he mused. Jellal couldn't blame her, he could be a beast at times, preying upon the weak and helpless. Clearing his head, he decided to act like she wasn't there, toying with the girl-the young woman, really, her eye held much more wisdom than a person of her age. Unconsciously-he didn't even know he was analyzing scenarios- he began imagining scenarios, what would she do if he did _this-_

He stood up quickly, and began _pacing_. His path was random, choosing to step in one direction, slide, move in a circle. Jellal began to fall into step, waltzing, like he would at the extravagant political parties that covered up the real things that took place- treaties, alliances, and promises were all made and broken, a never-ending circle. He danced, to a tune no one had heard, it had been banished. But his memories were sharp. He twirled around nothing. His hands were up in all the right places, but there wasn't a place for them to rest upon. He didn't care. He dipped to the _diminuendo_ of the valse in his head. It was an unusually fast valse, yet he kept up, the simple footwork making a beat. PITTER patter patter, PITTER patter patter. He continued even after he heard the soft, uneven, pitter-patter of another pair of feet, then slowly fade into nothingness, yet again. It was the most refreshing thing he had done in an era. He pondered, '_What would she think of that?'_

* * *

Erza, 3rd Person

He was _dancing. _Or waltzing, to be precise. The movement of his body entrapped her, she stood, paralyzed, listening to the sharp beat his shoes made. She knew the song, she knew the surprises and the _diminuendo_s and where it maintained a _sostenuto _beat, then where the song would glide down a series of chromatic steps, ornamented with a overlapping harmony. it was the one her father was put in the _konzentration felder_ for. And so, her family was also caught up in his conflict. Once the beat began to slow, to _ritardando, _she ran back to the minuscule shack that was the slave quarters of this _felder. _Slowly opening the door, pulling it up at one point, to avoid unnecessary _cccrrreeeaaak_s. She didn't want another day without food, courtesy of the 'supreme' overseers. She didn't know how much longer she could go without it.

* * *

As she laid in her designated sleeping area (it was a small patch of land that was unusable, really), she wondered, _When did I begin to call him a **him** and think of **him** as a **human**?_

* * *

Lucy Heartfilia, 1st Person

As my personal handmaiden, Mrs. Spetto arrived with multiple suitcases holding her belongings, while Ribbon McGarden, the Heartfilia Konzern's librarian, lugged a few _carts, _full of books, with Levy, his daughter trailing behind him to ensure that no novels would fall out of the carts. Aed carried his kitchen supplies while attempting to shout orders,_"Bring the pans to me!" "No, not those!" "The china should have already been packed!"  
_

I handed my suitcases, full of everything I would ever need, to Zoldeo, and hoisted myself into a plush, pillow-y seat of the well-to-do-looking carriage. It was almost double the length of a middle-class carriage, to ensure my possessions, along with my father's, were able to safely fit. Or at least, part of our possessions. The decorative paintings and other ornamental goods were to be moved in another cart. Magnolia's outskirts was a two hour ride from the Heartfilia Konzern's land. This trip was accompanied by only Mrs. Spetto, my father would be travelling on a jet plane to Magnolia, later this week, to attend a meeting with Mr. Ivan Dreyer, an influential businessman whose main source of profit were the_ felder_, before riding a carriage to the place where we would be residing for who-knows-how-long. I yawned, allowing myself to take a small nap.

It may have been the quality of the bumpy ride, but jostling soon awoke me. My eyelids fluttered before fully opening, a yawn half escaped my mouth before I managed to daintily cover it up with a hand. I stretched my unused joints, hearing multiple 'pop!'s, before changing to a stiffer, upright posture that was expected of a lady of high standards. The ride may be nearing it's end, which meant people may see me exiting. Therefore, I made sure to look decent before turning my head towards the glossy window to look at the scenery outside, which was playing on a continuous loop of grass, wildflowers, and cows. An untainted piece of land, which was rare in the world I lived in. It seems industrialization had not yet taken hold of this land. Mostly. The fact that there was a pathway, no matter how un-maintained, for carriages to drive upon meant industrialization was well under way.

3rd Person,

Gears that soundlessly worked together under the ground Lucy rode upon began to move, unbeknownst to her. Steam was released from a small opening. Poisonous gases began seeping into a confined room, filled with a handful of the Jewish.

* * *

Natsu Dragneel, 3rd Person

Natsu laboriously thought, aiming to best his frienemy, Grey Fullbuster, in anything he could, ranging from footraces to math problems, etched into the un-fertile ground they lived upon. This time, it was seeing how far they could push the overseers before they snapped.

_"Yo, Ivan!"_

_"It's Mr. Dreyer, to you, child!" _The overseer barked back.

_"So, how 'bout shaving that hair? If you were bald, then nobody would notice that you're beginning to bald!"_ Natsu taunted, smiling at his own logic. He was so smart sometimes...

_"Stupid kid."_

_"What was that, you piece of shit?"_

_"What'd you just call me?"_

_"A turd. Duh. Are you deaf as well as balding? That's unattractive, you know."  
_

**SMACK! **Ivan's whip sharply hit Natsu's back, which was protected by nothing but rags. Just another wound that would soon scab over, then scar, adding to the vast collection already present on his back.

Inwardly, Natsu smiled. 30 seconds._ New record_. The more taunting he did, the less work the overseer would order the other children-he would do all the chores, if he could, so that the other kids were happier than their present state.

* * *

Grey Fullbuster, 3rd Person

_"Excuse me, Nullpudding, sir." _Grey started out.

_"Whaddya want, runt?"_

_"I was just wondering, sir," _Grey dragged out, attempting to prolong his time. Nullpudding's eye began to twitch._ "How is your stomach so large? I mean, you can't be pregnant, so I don't see why you and your stomach have to take up so much space..." _He pretended to ponder, looking away, but still catching, out of the corner of his eye, the fist that Nullpudding was raising over him_." Perhaps they are interconnected and you have a Siamese twin? Then you could pass an excuse for taking up so much space! You should use that excuse, sir. Just a recommendation, sir." _

**BAM! **Nullpudding's large fist connected with Grey's jaw, the rock-hard fist would've hit his forehead and potentially knocked him into a coma, had he not ducked. 30 seconds. He surely beat Natsu with_ this_ time.

* * *

Unbeknownst to the 2 boys, gears began to move. Gears that resulted in the death of their parents. Gears that may, someday, kill them, too.


	2. Gears A'moving

A/N Just to clear up any confusion:

**Valse**\- the German way of saying waltz. Ws are pronounced like Vs and Bs like Ws.

**Sostenuto- **(to) sustain

**Legato- **smooth(ly)

**Pfeiffer- **a small piano company based in Germany. Most of the big names originated in London or the U.S., but since this takes place in a Fiore-ized Germany, pfeiffer it is! Fun fact: Pfeiffer is also the name of a type of cookie/snack.

* * *

_**"Sometimes, the people you'd take a bullet for is behind the trigger." Other times, you just lead them to their deaths.**_

* * *

Erza Scarlet, 3rd Person

She had went to see _it_ again. Erza didn't know what compelled her to do so. Yet, she risked it, and her legs mechanically moved, into a hallway, and behind a pillar, near it's door. Just like last time, she made sure she was hidden, taking comfort in the shadows that surrounded her. Shadows, the very thing she used to fear, now comforted her. Erza blinked. she had changed alot in the past few months. She had matured, to an adult, witnessing horrors most adults never have, and never will.

This time, _it_ had a piano, a black Pfeiffer baby grand, with a shiny lacquer coat, just like a mini concert grand. How she yearned to touch a key, to see how it felt! _It_, sensing that she was there, began playing,_ their_ piece-her father's piece, really-the Minute Valse, by Chopin. And so, he_ played. _His left hand danced along the keys, staccato-ing most notes, flying here and there, accompanying the _legato_ melody of the right hand, accenting the first beat, the strong beat.

_Just like how the officials favored the strong and unoriginal. Brute power was always accented, threatening the other countries._

_He _finished, pressing the rightmost pedal, the_ sostenuto _pedal, to lengthen the ending notes. Fernandes spoke up, voice full of intent, as if he was about to tell her the secret to life, **"You owe me now."**

Her eyes widened, eyebrows raising in surprise, taking this in. She could imagine the smirk gracing his lips. And so she fled, to her shack, yet again. But they both knew she would be there the next night, and the night afterwards. Once she started, she couldn't imagine _not_ listening to her father's tune, an arranged version of Chopin's Minute Valse, filled with _arpeggios_, swelling with emotions, before dying down into a quiet sigh described by a flurry of notes.

Once again, laying on the cold ground, in nothing but rags, she wondered, _Why did I call _it_ a _he_? Again!_

* * *

Lucy Heartfilia, 3rd Person

During Lucy's carriage ride, while she was asleep, a memory, dusted with time, was remembered.

Layla's voice came out of no where, **"People will rain on your parade because they are envious of your sun and tired of their own shade. Share your sun with everyone, never mind their status, or the amount of influence they have. Remember, not all are as fortunate as you, my dear."**With that being said, her eyes closed. Forever more.

Her eyes fluttered open, her mother's words echoing in her head. _Why had that epiphany suddenly come? Why now? Why had she never remembered her mother's last words until now? WHY? _Frustrated at the lack of answers she got back, she sighed. The carriage halted. Time for her facade. But, she had a feeling what had mother told her would change her, for the better.

Lucy ventured, out of the carriage, stepping on to the short path that lead to her new home. Walking up to the door, she pulled it open before the driver of the carriage could, ignoring him with a simple wave of her hand. Now, immediately after remembering Mama's last words, she preferred to do things on her own. That was how Mama had taught her. That was how she would stay, independent, forever more. She was not dependent on a husband-though she had given much thought on her future matrimony-she would never sit around, smiling when directed. She was not a shining trophy, to be shown to admiring guests, with envy in their eyes.

_She was a porcelain doll, with a cracked smile, and lackluster eyes. She was capable of cracking. But she was also capable of becoming tougher._ If_ she had the glue to do it._

On her trek to the main door of the house, she noticed a tire swing, being held up by a tree. She smiled softly, perhaps her father had remembered some of her childhood past times, besides mandatory studying and reading. Or, maybe, the tire swing was brought to the house by an observant servant. Her smile vanished at the thought.

Lucy began exploring the house, starting with the main hallway. The hall was adorned with one large chandelier, with many smaller ones near it, spaced out evenly. There were two or three doors, all closed, leading to other rooms.

**"The hall also connects to a spiraling stairwell** **(because those are the best types) that leads to the servant headquarters and her room."** That was all she was informed, from a grinning Ribbon-san.

During her expedition, she found out that one door lead to her father's secretary/assistant's counting house and another to her father's office. At the end of the hall was a kitchen, dining room and ballroom. The staircase lead to yet another hall, which was connected more doors, one for her, another for the servants, and plenty more bedrooms, for the occasional guest(s). In her room was a balcony, which gave her a ethereal view of the woods behind and surrounding her new house (she couldn't quite call it her home). Placing her hands on the railing of the balcony, she noticed smoke, coming out of thin air (or so it seemed). But she knew, where there was smoke, there must be fire. And fire meant civilization! There were other humans here, too, besides the servants that tended to her every need. Maybe, just maybe, there were other kids besides her, kids her age that she could interact with! She hurried down stairs, sliding her hand down the curling railing of the staircase, to tell her father the good news. Nearly bumping into him, she joyously informed him,**"Father, there are other people in this area, that means there may be kids-"**

**"Children."** He corrected,**"Kids are young goats. Precision of language matters, using the common tongue will only have other people of _our_ status look down upon you, and the family name."**

_Blah, blah, blah, the family name, yada, yada, yada. _**"Right, children,"** Lucy amended, pretending as if her thoughts had not been rebellious and disagreed with one of her father's life principles, **"There may be other children here, Father!"**

**"What people do you speak of? There is only us living in this area, along with the guards that you will meet, shortly."** The imposing father in question said, rather brusquely.

**"And servants, Father."** Lucy reminded.

**"Yes, and the servants."**

**"Anyways, Father, there was smoke-"**

**"Enough of this childish nonsense. There are no humans besides the residents of the Heartfilia manor."** Jude made a mental note to tighten the security measures around the mansion. _Lucy shall never know of the real world, but ignorance is bliss._

Annoyed by her father's harsh manner and tone, she turned around, walking back to her room.

* * *

Once comfortably situated on her canopy bed, she reached for a unpacked book, hoping to lose herself in the plot. But, today was not her day. A knock sounded on her door, resonating in her empty room. She sighed.

**"Come in."**

**"Hime, I apologize if I may have disturbed you. You may punish me-"**

**"But-"**

**"Your father, Mr. Heartfilia, has requested for you to dress up, instead of wearing your 'commoner's clothes', as he puts it."** Virgo stated.

Lucy looked down, she was wearing simple black pants, and a simple white shirt, to accompany it.

Virgo continued,**"Master has made clear that you are to wear a dress, not that 'monstrous mutation' from last time. There will be high-ranked militia here, to socialize and discuss... political matters, hime. What dress would you like to wear? Or should I be punished?" **Virgo raised two dresses, a green one made of silk, that could rival the most shined of emeralds, and a pink dress, ornamented with frills and lace and had a matching collar.

Thinking quickly, her eyes flitted to the first dress she saw.**"Perhaps the pink one, with the fancy ruffles and such?" **she suggested.

**"Of course, hime. Does this deserve punishment?"**

Lucy sighed as Virgo began prepping her for the _small gathering_.

* * *

**Approximately 20:05 p.m.:**

The first of the ostentatious guests had arrived, fashionably late by 5 minutes, a lady, probably one of high stature, holding on to a leather clutch, with a nasty smirk on face. Her raven hair was done into buns with parts left down, her make-up replicating a geishas, and her _dress! _It could almost be called promiscuous! A slit went up her thigh, far too high to support the innocent face she made to her father, Mr. Jiemma Orlando, who was making an appearance as one of the 18 war commanders of the Yakuma clan, while discussing matters in a low voice, before immediately silencing as Jude and Lucy approached the pair. She flashed a fake, cold, smile at Lucy-it was more of a polite sneer-before turning her voice sugary sweet,

**"Hello, Mr. Heartfilia, sir, thank you for inviting my father and me to your gathering."**

Her father began revealing his intent for attending,**"There will be a.."** he glanced at Lucy and Minerva,** "private meeting for the generals, yes?"**

Jude nodded in confirmation before speaking so low Lucy had to strain to hear **"Rendezvous point, at 9:00."**

Jiemma disappeared into the flow of people arriving, Minerva following behind like a house pet.

**"Lucy," **_Am I supposed to snap to attention? _**"Please greet the guests and make sure the valets are doing their job." **_Sir, yes sir! _She merely nodded.

Lucy began to greet the flurry of people arriving as her father directed,

**"Hello, welcome to the Heartfilia manor." **She began, greeting the higher-up, that her father constantly slandered. He acknowledged her with a curt nod.

**"Hello, the servants are handing out drinks-feel free to grab as many as you'd like."** she said, to Gildarts, one of her father's more boisterous co-workers, with an affinity for alcohol.

**"Pleasure seeing you here, the Heartfilias welcome you."**

**"My pleasure, m'lady. My name is Sting, Sting Eucliffe." **a particularly flirtatious lieutenant replied, winking. He was her father's protege, and was trained to become a fine businessman, like Jude Heartfilia, though he worked in the military. Sting dressed in a daring cropped top, with gloves and a fur lined coat. Lucy did not dare look down further than his chest, she might faint.

**"My name is-"**

**"I already know your name, m'lady," **_Rude._

**"Rumors of your beauty have spread far and wide, but none compare to your_ true_ beauty." **He smiled, seeming like he had repeated those words, many times before. Lucy decided to speak her mind.

**"It seems as if you have rehearsed those lines, many times before, Mr. Eucliffe." **_Was it wrong that she liked the attention?_

**"Indeed, I have." **He stated, plainly. _Is he not bothering to hide his inner player? _**"****I've been thinking about how to capture your attention, as soon as I was informed that I was to meet you."** Sting began blushing_. Not bad..._

**"Well you have certainly achieved your goal, Mr. Eucliffe. I'll be looking forward to seeing you soon- I must be attending to the other guests." **

* * *

**At approximately 21:00 p.m.:**

Lucy slyly followed Sting, bare-foot as to not make a sound. _Why was this meeting so.. private? In the middle of a party?_

She went upstairs, while Sting went outside. Lucy would eavesdrop by sitting in the balcony of her room.

**"- let your brat see what's happening so close to her living spaces." **This wasJiemma's voice.

**"Of course." **_Father?! _**"The woods will obscure her vision from the camp. Reduce the smoke. She has already noticed it." **_Camp?!_

**"Perceptive." **_Did Jiemma actually compliment me? _**"That will not be helpful in her search for a husband."  
**

It seems like her assumption was wrong. Why did it bother her that her father not defend her?

**"I could be her husband." **_Eucliffe?!_

**"I have already arranged that." **_Father?!_

**"Score!" **-.-''

She ran back downstairs, putting on her heels during her descent. Tomorrow, she would find the camp. Tomorrow. As of now, she had to attend to the guests.

* * *

A/N: I'm sorry I haven't gotten to Natsu and Lucy's meeting yet, that will most likely happen in a chapter from now. I noticed the Lucy-centric chapter made her mind change a little quickly- I wanted her to change, before she met Natsu, and I'm sorry if the development happened to quickly. Ah! I say sorry too much (sorry). Anyways, I recently joined the **Review Revolution.** If interested, go to my short bio for the pledge.

HAPPY NEW YEARS!

FELIZ ANOS NUEVOS!

新年快乐！

Bonne année!

Akemashite Omedetou Gozaimasu!

I only speak Chinese, English, and Spanish, so I apologize if my other translations are wrong.

Ciao!


	3. The Catalyst

**"Remaining childish is a tremendous state of innocence."**

Catalyst Part I

Lucy Heartfilia, 3rd person

Bright and early the next morning, the sun rays nudged her awake. Slowly slipping groggily out of her nightdress, she changed into a comfortable day dress before stretching.

_Today is the day. _

She hid a letter- a form of insurance, near her bed, before striding out her door, confidently, albeit a little nebbishly. She creeped to the kitchen, stashing some cake in her knapsack before slipping through the back kitchen door to the ground outside.

Once through the boundary of bushes that bordered the Heartfilia e-state, Lucy produced a handful of ribbons in a myriad of colors tying one to the tree nearest her path every 30 yards. She regretted her choice of attire;her day dress, full of tiny ruffles of lace and frill, snagged on to a tree branch with every step she took. Nevertheless, she trekked on. After what seemed like an hour, Lucy Heartfilia, in a pool of sweat and exhaustion, saw the fence of the camp. Trudging closer, she inspected the barbed wire of the fence, which looked lethal to her 9 year-old eyes, before looking for a spot to go through. Through the holes of the fence, she viewed children-Her age, ones she could play with!- still wearing their pajamas, (a term her tutor described as commoner nightwear) looking fatigued-perhaps from their game of tag?

The longer she stood there, the stranger she felt. Was it common for boys to carry hammers? And for girls to haul and wash dirty laundry? Was that a game to play? What was the object of the game? _A competition_ Lucy decided.

Approximately 20 minutes later, Lucy felt as if she had known these children her whole life.

"Gosh, Flame-brain, has your fire melted all of your brain cells?" This came from a striking raven-haired NUDE boy.

"I'm surprised you know the term cells, Grey. Well done." A brilliant bob of red nods to herself, ignoring Grey's sarasm. "I have taught you well." _Erza, right?_

Natsu, the 'salmon' haired boy replies,"Did I hear something,_ Underwear Prince_?"

"Excuse me, Natsu. Did _I_ hear something?" Erza squints, forgetting about her little teacherly pride.

Lucy quietly laughs, the smallest of chortles, before deciding to watch them in a more comfortable position, sitting down. Lucy scooped a handful of crumpled chocolate cake before glancing at the sky. _I should probably leave... Father will send out people to hunt for me..._

Natsu and Erza simultaneously raised their heads up, sniffing the air. Lucy freezes, hoping that they don't notice her and her cake. Natsu runs to the fence, nearly touching the fence before remembering the electricity that courses through the fence. Lucy runs away, throwing her cake to Natsu.

"Thanks, stranger!"

Lucy smiles while running away, leaving only a vibrant blue ribbon behind.

* * *

Erza Scarlet, 3rd Person

Jellal was... different, she supposed, unconsciously defending him from no one. Not in a bad way. He was nice to her, he treated her like a princess now. He would sneak her bits of delicious cake and it was always different, just like his music. Mercurial and unpredictable. That was Jellal, an enigma wrapped in a paradox. Today's cake was something called red velvet cake which came with a warm happy song, unlike the wedding cake, which came with the traditional 'fling song', as Jellal put it, but Erza regarded it as the marriage song along with all the implications of _Jellal Fernandez_ playing it for her, something that made her face blush to camouflage with her hair.

Stomach slightly less hollow, Erza sneaked back to the shed she called home with red dusting her cheeks and red tattoos in her thoughts.

* * *

Lucy Heartfilia, 3rd Person

The day after she gave Natsu the remains of her cake, it rained. It rained hard drenching every surface with water. Lucy stayed stuck inside, unable to do much beside play with her dolls. However, she met the pig called Sting once again as she had chanced upon him during his report to her father. She was holding the rice ball she had made for her father.

"Can you please pass this on to my father while you report to him, sir?" She asked, rather quietly, tentative on her choice to trust him with such a precious object that had taken her hours to perfect. (In fact, her stomach was complaining about the failed rice balls it had been force to consume.)

"My pleasure" Sting replied with a smile, snatching the ball from her hand, "to do this!" He crushed the face of the ball, all while gleefully laughing.

"Pig!" Lucy proclaimed, throwing her doll at him. Her doll was easily caught and thrown over his shoulder.

"You still play with dolls, _Ms_. Heartfilia? Didn't you know that dolls are for- "

"Enough, Sting. Stop." Another officer, one with an opposite demeanor said. He, like Sting, had a scar, but this one was on his nose.

* * *

In the 'camp', extraneous chemicals were pored into the river, polluting the last available source of water for many.

* * *

Erza Scarlet, 3rd Person

3 days later

Her visits became more and more often, nearly every day. During her visits, there was a different but always beautifully played piece, almost always transcribed by her father. Fernandez was better than her when playing though her father had tried her best to teach her to sound less mechanical. Not like she was ever born a virtuosa. That was Juvia, though she and Gajeel only came a few days before, on the day it poured buckets, Erza had learned more about them than Jellal, through her daily chores. If Jellal and Juvia were together, their children would be poignant musicians, prodigies at nearly every musical task. Somehow, that bothered her, imagining the blue-haired children. It must be because Juvia should not be hurt by that man. Though he treated her generously, Erza had no idea of what he could do and his limitations to hurting others. Indeed, that must be why. Plus, she should be with her prince, Grey. Juvia Fullbuster. She giggled-that was a nice sounding name. Noticing the red head's giggle, Jellal stopped playing. _That was a nice sound_.

Ever since that laugh was heard, Jellal vowed to make that sound more frequent. It was melodic, he could write a piece attempting to describe it. In fact, that was what he would do.


	4. The Catalyst Part II

**Hey very-few-who-have-taken-the-time-out-of-their-day-to-read-this,**

**Any suggestions? Please PM me or review. Thanks!**

* * *

_**"**__**People, with just one life, are trying their best to thrive.**__**"**_

* * *

Lucy Heartfilia

Everyday, Lucy Heartfilia would wake up to her maid, Virgo, gently rocking her awake, and the sound of metal chains clinking together. Today, she woke up to neither. Instead of the comforting rubs and occasional tickle Lucy usually received, she was awoken to gears clanking loudly in a dissonant war with the high-pitched whines of some boiler or perhaps a gas stove, slowly awakening. Through the glare of her bare windows (the lacy curtains had yet to be put up), she was able to see the dawn of a new day. Blinded by the radiance of the colors, yet longing to stare some more, Lucy squinted her eyes, facing the yawning sun, before giving up and flopping back to a light slumber.

That lasted a few more seconds.

The buzzing ring of a new alarm clock awoke her. Jumping up, Lucy rubbed her eyes.

"Get up! Are you giving up your education for sleep?!" A cranky Rubbon-san yells.

_Yes._

"I'll tell you a story?"

"I'm getting up!"

* * *

As Ribbon-san begins, Lucy grabs a fountain pen and snatches a few sheets of paper.

_Fiore, long ago, was a place of diversity, but that was a long time ago, when I was your age. However, in those days, the economy was very drastic, up and downs in the same day, the stock market fluctuated very fast, too fast for someone to earn profit. Loss was soon eradicated, along with profit. The risks were simply to high for someone to attempt to profit. One minute, we'd all be billionaires, and the next minute, the stock market would crash again, scattering mini-depressions around Fiore. The magic council scrambled to make a irrefutably promising solution, as demanded by the government and citizens of Fiore. In those days, magic was not seen as something dastardly, but rather as a beneficial everyday solution to the smallest of problems. And so, the Magic Council, along with the 10 Great Wizard Saints decided to meddle with the diversity. One exiled man, Zeref, had lured Siegrain Fernandes, a Great Wizard Saint, into helping Zeref after he heard all about what Zeref promised. This is where Siegrain turns out to be nothing but a fake, a copy of his 'twin' Jellal. Everything Siegrain did was what Jellal wanted him to do, everything Siegrain witnessed was what Jellal had also witnessed. This way, Jellal was in a top position, viewing the trends of the stock market before all other civilians. Because of this, Jellal made a large sum of money in a fortnight. This profitable position was always guarded by Jellal until a group of Jews found out that Jellal and his slaves were behind the erratic stock market. Jellal had gone mad with greed, forgetting about his friends, and adding fuel to the flames, Jews had discovered him- the very race he _abhorred._ After that fiasco, Jellal Fernandes went into a nomadic lifestyle, meeting with two others, Ultear Milkovich and her adopted daughter, Meredy. Together, they created the independent guild, Crime Sorciere, to help cleanse their sins and protect the very mistakes they had made from ever happening again. And to this day, Crime Sorciere has protected the rights of every citizen, mortal or mage._

"But how come I've never heard of them?" A befuddled Lucy asked, "Wouldn't they be hired to protect my father?"  
"Child, you have much to learn. Monetary gain is not everything, especially to Jellal, whose greed has ruined his life." Ribbon-san whispered, sadness staining her voice.

* * *

Natsu Dragneel

Sting Eucliffe, that bastard, came again. And he was holding the same exact cake Weirdo had thrown to him, smacking his piggy lips as he savored the flavor in front of the starving children. (Chocolate truffle cake, Erza informed after also informing him that he was in limerence. He only slept with the Weirdo's ribbon 'cause it was soft, okay? Not 'cause he thought about her all the time- just some of the time!) Sting didn't deserve cake. That was only for Weirdo.

Juvia, one of the two newcomers, stared at the cake unabashedly, drool forming at the corner of her mouth.

"Grey-sama, Juvia has a new love, Juvia deeply apologizes, but... it smells so _wonderful_!"

_That fast? Her infatuations _(As Erza had also informed him, a rich people word for obsession) _don't last very long..._

Just then, Grey unconciously strips, from instinct or fury, Natsu cannot tell.

"Grey-sama! Juvia takes it back! Juvia acknowledges the passion you give her! You will be Juvia's only love!"

_... I don't even know... Ack-noll-i-ges... What._

As that takes place, Gajeel also stares at the cake, sniffing the air as it is tainted with the bittersweet smell of dark chocolate.

"Oy! Blondo! Can I have some?" Gajeel asks, leaving behind dignity and pride in favor of the hunger eroding his stomach.

'Blondo' turns his head to the heavily-pierced boy, laughing, before daintily scooping a piece into his open mouth, taunting the slaves, daring them to make the 'first move'. Or at least, that's what he would write in his report. Coward.

Gajeel, enraged, sucks his saliva in, clenches his jaw, and...

_**SMACK**_

Gajeel is hit squarely in the apple of his cheek,and is left with a pink, hand-shaped splotch, with the fingers grazing above Gajeel's eyebrow piercings. Gajeel's _mature_ spit attack lands on the ground, far from the delectable target. Sting adds insult to the injury, eating, _devouring_, the last piece of cake (as Erza's heart breaks), looking directly at Gajeel.

_Metal-head should ask Grape for some ice for that burn..._

_**"WHY YOU INSOLENT CHILD! YOU PUSHED HIM TO EAT THE LAST PIECE, YOU .POOP!"**_

_How does Erza know what type of cake it was..._

* * *

Juvia Lockser

Juvia is named after the perpetual rain, _la lluvia_, the only constant in her life.

"Lockser was a well-respected name in the world of money and greed. The Lockser's own a water-purification company, a necessity for all. Lockser was known throughout the nation, a sign of cleanliness. Even within her own family, nothing ever happened. Scandals never occurred, that's simply how Juvia's family was. An affluent family was a sure sign of spoiled children and Juvia was no exception. But none of the other prominent company's children ever liked the Juvia, not even the widely-known _Lucy Heartfilia_ did. That's what Mr. Heartfilia told her, after warning her to stay away and that Lucy didn't want to be her friend. The rain poured as Juvia cried for the next week. Then, Juvia met Gajeel, an orphan on her family's well maintained door step, begging for food. Juvia was the one to answer the door, it was the evening before Hanukkah, and all of the servants of the Lockser household were with their respective families. Juvia welcomed Gajeel in and allowed him to eat whatever he would like. Juvia still remembers that very well. Gajeel ate like a pig! And after that, Gajeel was adopted into the Lockser family, but it was never publicized, such a'rowdy' child would not have been accepted in the world of thinly veiled insults. Some who knew looked down on our friendship, others whispered of affairs. Juvia and Gajeel didn't care, it was fun together, and Gajeel did not mind the rain, because he _articulately _stated:

_"Rain cleanses the world of it's sins."_

(In all honesty, it was more like:

_"The rain helps me feel refreshed and clean."_)

Though it was a gruffly spoken sentence, Juvia was so _happy_! She _finally _had someone who did not inwardly judge by the rain surrounding her. Juvia stayed like that, happy! Until, the _Heiler_came.

And rich or not, most Jews were taken _here_."

Juvia spat out, after describing her life before.

Before_ it._


	5. The Sweetest Things In Life

A/N: So, I would tell you the lame reasons why I was not writing at all, I would be subjecting you to accidentally scrolling down from this to far, yes? _No. _So the last chapter had a bunch of exposition, huh? Meh. Suck it up. On another note, while I was typing the quote up, I spelled peace 'piece'. Blooper of the days/weeks/the-eon-it took-me to-update!

**TBH, I DO NOT KNOW WHERE I WILL BE GOING WITH THIS STORY, NOR DO I ALWAYS REMEMBER WHAT I WROTE IN PREVIOUS CHAPTERS SO:  
In my previous chapter, with Juvia, I meant to put**_ Mage__s_** were taken to the concentration camp, not Jews.**

_Review-_ Give me a word to use in the next chapter, a harder word please!

* * *

_**"We have no scar to show for happiness. We learn so little from peace."**_

* * *

Lucy Heartfilia

Today was a Monday, the first Monday Lucy was_ really _subjected to the torture of education. _Why must knowledge hurt?_ Lucy grumbled to herself as she rubbed her eyes, which were sore from scanning the archaic textbooks for obscure definitions of even more obscure words. In her carefully learnt handwriting, she scribbled down

_Leucomelanous_ Having dark hair and eyes, but fair skin

which was below _leucochroic {_White or pale-colored}.

Why was learning about the colors that describable one's skin so_ important? _This unit was one of the longest she had to endure, it would end in the _summer! _The only unit possibly more horrifying than this was the _reproduction_ lesson. That was in a league of its own. Some of the images Lucy stumbled upon while scanning the dusty tombs were quite _graphic_ (and the descriptions even more). Not to mention she learned that with _other children, _all blushing, and pretending indifference. _As if._

Taking a break from the toture that was applying itself on her hand, she gently closed the book, simultaneously closing her eyelids. She needed a real break. Not just a five-minute rest. That was like a poop break, (E_xcuse her, _she meant she needed to _freshen up._ Not that she really understood what that was implying.) necessary and vital. Lucy's eyes still closed, she began plotting her next escapade to visit the _children._

* * *

Juvia Lockser

_Juvia's magic power is slowly draining; Juvia is afraid if this goes on for too long, one day Juvia will wake up with out any magic power in her body, and her water will simply be _gone.

"119374! Get to work!" a man with a apple figure and the utmost _pleasant_ temper (and chin) shouted.

_119374\. _Was that Juvia?

"It saddens me that all that has become of the prosperous Lockser family are a group of numbers, with no way to really leave a mark anymore. Juvia's power may not be gone, but her existence is. Juvia has simply turned into a statistic." Juvia whispers, letting the words taint the air, before whispering 119374 and letting that identity taint her lips. That simple combinatinon of numbers left a bitter taste in her mouth. 119374 was surrounded by strangers, other numbered souls she didn't quite know. Pulling at long sleeves of the itchy and dirty white and grey striped shirt, Juvia walked into the heat of a sweltering spring day, a repetition of the last.

* * *

Grey Fullbuster

"It saddens me that all that has become of the prosperous Lockser family are a group of numbers, with no way to really leave a mark anymore. Juvia's power may not be gone, but her existence is. Juvia has simply turned into a statistic." Grey's ears perk up at the hollow female voice echoing around in his head, rippling repeatedly, causing a chorus to break out. Unconciously, Grey's hands turned to fists, ready to break the rain woman from any dangers around. Shaking his head to rid it of unnecessary thoughts, he strides back into his corner which shades him from all that is bright.

* * *

Lucy Heartfilia

Lucy treks, yet again, through the path she took last time. The sun beats down on her back and trails of sweat course through her body. Determinedly dodging tree branches, jostling her picnic basket, and she expertly ties a knot around one tree branch with a silk, pale pink ribbon before continuing on her journey. Reaching the barbed wire fence faster than before, her eyes immediately scan for any people, before huffing in disbelief. _I have the guts to visit _again _and nobody is present!_

Turning on her heel, she storms back, hiding in the vicinity of the trees, waiting for_ someone, anyone_ to make their presence known. Tears threaten to escape, but she bites her lip, daring them to escape, before her resolve shatters as she _sobs._

The shuffling of feet are heard and Lucy glances up, a little tendril of hope growing in her steel mind.

"Oy! Stranger! Weirdo! You! Is that a box 'o food?!" The salmon-haired boy grins.

The little tendril of hope that grew curls a smile onto her cheeks, which were still moist with the tears of loneliness and despair.

* * *

Natsu Dragneel

_Today couldn't get any worse._

_Sting doesn't visit, the plus of my day._

But, in his place, another hot-shot general does, arriving into our 'lil shack with a flying carpet. This one has raccoon eyeliner decorating his closed eyes. Still, he navigates to the center of the crowd of mages easily. The wannabe Aladdin has erratically dyed hair, with shocks of white tips against a black curtain of hair. The some of the white parts are 'poshly' braided and beaded. _Braid-_

"Excuse me, sir, why is your hair braided, sir?" A shy Levy asks quite courageously.

* * *

Aladdin opens his eyes instantaneously once addressed, revealing red irises without pupils. The state of his eyes informs all around that this Aladdin is quite powerful, capable of unleashing your worst nightmares onto yourselves, while the people around are unable to help. _Illusion magic. _The vibrancy of his ruby eyes reveals the anger and rage within this man, before cooling into hard gems, incapable of feeling. With a dramatic _swoosh, _all that lingers in the air is the spice of his expensive carpet and the intensity of his stone gaze.

Everyone consisting of the Fairy Tail cell waits on a baited breath, before they realize no one will hurt them, nor their loved ones. A false sense of security envelopes them, giving deceit and fake assurances. Everyone returns to their normal business outside, the children enjoying the few minutes of their only break while the adults enter the caves.

* * *

The children dash to the sunlit, barren soil outside, where their company and their imaginations will keep them entertained.

Natsu glances, seeing a flash of blond, shining up and down, and allows himself to raise his hopes and spirits, _just a little, _Running to the gold he covets _oh so badly._

"Oy! Stranger! Weirdo! You! Is that a box 'o food?!" The salmon-haired boy grins.

* * *

Positioning himself to run to the picnic basket awaiting, he glances back at the others, searching for watching eyes before quickly army crawling under a weak portion of the barbed wire fence and meeting up the blond girl.

"Hello! How old are you?" The little brown-eyed girl sings.

"Twelve." Natsu gruffly says, not bothering to lie. This girl could not be dangerous, his senses told him so.

"Really?" Those eyes light up in delight, "Me too! My mama told me not to talk to strangers, but you aren't a stranger anymore, we are the same age!" Lucy smiles at her logic. "Why do you wear pajamas all day?"

"The soldiers, they took us away from out homes and put us here, making us work and wear these. I'm not sure which one is worse." Natsu jokes, empty-heartedly.

"My father is a soldier!" Lucy announces, not bothering with his joke, "But not the type that takes people clothes away. I don't even know if he would throw you in this farm, no matter what crime you commit. It seems horrendous here."

Natsu bites his tongue to keep from saying, _You think this is a farm? I wish. The only crime I did was not fit in. _But, taking in her finely dressed appearance, he decides it would be best not to offend her, no matter what she thinks. Her father may come after him. Or his family.

Sensing the boy's quietness, Lucy attempts to_ really_ start a conversation. "My name is Lucy. And you?"

"Chocolate Truffle cake?!" Natsu screams, recognizing the sweet scent. His mouth is already drooling as the pang of hunger that is always there subsides, as if it knows it would anyways, sooner rather than later.

"Alright then, Chocolate Truffle cake. It's nice to meet you, too. Since this treat," Lucy gestures to the picnic basket, "must be named after you, I suppose you may have it."

Greedily, Natsu attempts to snatch it from her.

"Nope! You, cake sir, must practice _self-restraint._"

What?"

_"Self-restraint."_

"What does that mean?"

"Errr, tolerance, I suppose. My mother said that to me in situations like these, so I applied it to our situation." A smug Lucy replies.

"What does that mean?"

"What does _what _mean? Tolerance? Situations?"

"_That."_

Sighing in frustration, Lucy gives up. "You are _exasperating!_"

"If I pretend to be insulted, will I get my cake faster?"

* * *

Natsu happily savors his cake as Lucy just stares, watching in fascination as Natsu shoves the delicious treat into his mouth without an ounce of table manners.

"Natsu."

"Pardon?"

"_Nat-su. _Not sir, or pinky, or anything else."

"What a strange name..." Lucy muses.

"You have a strange name!"

"_Excuse_ me?"

"You are excused."

"And you are im-_possible!"_

As their light banter continues, the hopeful smile on their faces blossoms into something else, even more valuable in times like these.

* * *

When someone is having the '_worst day of their life!' _It can't get any worse after that, right?


End file.
